


iv. running out of time

by tempestaurora



Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Running Away, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, caged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26773327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: Number Seven was sick.That’s what Dad told Three and the boys.Only, when Three is taken down to the basement to rumour Seven into thinking she's ordinary, she doesn't just let the moment go and forget all about little Number Seven's powers. She grabs Number One, and together, they decide to break Number Seven out and run far, far away from The Umbrella Academy.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: the kids aren't alright [whumptober 2020] [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930186
Comments: 30
Kudos: 154





	iv. running out of time

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Caged
> 
> this is the first in a mini series called 'the runaway academy' and the other fics in the series will be posted during whumptober, too. i love writing from the perspective of children, even children like the umbrella kids who know way more than the logically should for their age. 
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

Number Seven was sick.

That’s what Dad told Three and the boys.

Seven was sick and she had to be kept apart while she got better. But she _would_ get better, Dad told them, because Grace, the new nanny, was looking after her, and Grace was good at looking after people.

But Dad also wanted Three to go down in the scary basement and talk to Seven, which made no sense to Three because—

“If Seven’s so sick, shouldn’t I be staying away?”

Dad barely looked at her as the elevator trundled downwards. She’d been coached already on the exact rumour she would use to save Seven’s life from her illness. She didn’t know how it would work on _sickness,_ but Dad told her it would help Seven adjust to the medication and make her better faster, so Three was still replaying the words in her head.

_I heard a rumour you think you’re just ordinary._

Somehow, that would save her, and Three felt very proud that she was going to help Grace save Seven’s life.

“If we’re brief,” her father replied, “you shouldn’t catch her sickness.”

This confused Three, as Seven had to be kept in the basement because she was _super duper_ contagious – but not so contagious that Three couldn’t visit with Dad and Grace and Pogo.

The elevator doors screeched upon opening, revealing a long concrete hallway where a large, metal cage sat. It had to be a cage, Three thought, because it didn’t look big enough to be a room, and what else could it be? Only cages were metal like that.

Three followed Dad down the hall, and stood back as he opened up the door – it was metal, too, with a dark window and a wheel handle that looked heavy and difficult to move, though she bet Number One could manage it, because he was stronger than anyone she’d ever met.

Inside, the cage was dimly lit, with a single bed. Number Seven sat on it, not looking sick, exactly, but definitely tired, and Dad led them all in to meet her.

“Good morning Number Seven,” he greeted, though it was actually the afternoon, but Three bet Seven wouldn’t be able to tell down here. She peered around and her eyes widened at the sight of all the spikes on the wall. Why would there be _spikes?!_ That seemed silly and dangerous.

Grace stepped forward to give her the pills she’d carried down on a tray with Seven’s lunch. She ate slowly, and took the pills with a cup of water while the others watched.

“How are you feeling?” Grace asked as she plumped up Seven’s single pillow.

Seven shrugged. Three thought this was weird, because Seven usually talked a lot. Like, any time she was given the chance, she’d talk, and she was quite a loud talker if Dad wasn’t around. Three liked Seven because of this. Because she was a loud talker and sometimes she peeked between the railings of the mezzanine to watch her be a loud superhero too. That’s what they all were – or were training to be. _Superheroes._ And though Three didn’t understand exactly how Seven’s power worked, she could usually break things and make cool noises, which was more than Three could do.

Three was always told off for breaking things and making cool noises, though, she guessed, sometimes Seven was too.

So Three stacked the shrug with all the strange things about this trip to the basement, like Seven being down here at all, and the scary elevator, and the spiked walls on the metal cage, and how she didn’t look very sick and if she _was_ very sick it made no sense that Three could be in here with her while she ate her lunch, because surely that would make _Three_ very sick, too.

And then she did as she was told, which would apparently make Seven all better very soon, and at her Dad’s command said, “I heard a rumour you think you’re just ordinary,” and Seven’s eyes glazed over white.

*

There was no talking at dinner, and usually a nanny watched them otherwise, so Three waited until it was bedtime to sneak into the bathroom just as One was shutting the door.

“Two!” he cried, and she shushed him fast.

“We have a mission,” she told him.

One’s eyes grew big like the moon. He shut the door quietly and locked it. “A mission? Did Dad tell you?”

She shook her head. “It’s a mission we have to keep secret _from_ Dad.”

One’s face grew serious and he nodded. There had been a few secret missions, though they were only five. They’d rescued cookies from the kitchen and Five’s favourite teddy bear from the washing machine. They’d covered up the scrape on Four’s knee before anyone could find out about their game of Combat Tag, and even managed to find a good kitchen knife to give to Two on their joint birthday.

“This is the most important one yet,” she informed him. “It’s about Seven.”

“What about Seven? She’s sick.”

“She’s not sick!” she whispered. “I visited her with Dad and he’s keeping her in a cage in the basement!” Number One gasped and Three nodded. “We need to get her out!”

“What’ll we do with her?” One asked. “We can’t just hide her under our beds – Dad will notice if we steal her.”

Three twisted her mouth in thought. “We’ll have to run away,” she decided.

“We can’t run away!”

“Keep your voice down!” Three hissed. “It’s the only way to get Seven out – she’ll need us to protect her!”

One considered this for a moment. “What about the others?”

“Dad will notice if we all go at once. We’ll have to go alone, come back for them another day.”

One never took much convincing, which Three was pleased about because it meant she wouldn’t have to force him. Instead, he turned on the shower so their voices would be muffled by the running water, and they planned.

*

That very night, they slipped out of bed.

Three led the way downstairs, One placing his feet everywhere Three did – Five had taught her where the squeaks in the stairs were – until they reached the elevator doors that descended into the basement. By One’s watch, they had about thirty minutes before Pogo would do the rounds and discover them not in their beds.

Three cringed the whole time the elevator rose to meet them, the noise too loud to be subtle, and then they slipped inside. They breathed a sigh of relief as the doors shut behind them.

“You’ve got everything?” Three checked.

One nodded, gesturing to his backpack. They had a few changes of clothes squished inside – nothing with the Umbrella Academy logo, so they wouldn’t be brought back here – and a pack of cookies that One had traded a model airplane with Six to get. Three was pretty sure the cookies could last the three of them a few days if they ate them slow, and then they’d have to steal food, probably – but Three couldn’t imagine that being difficult. She could make anyone do anything she wanted them to!

The elevator rumbled to a stop and opened on the concrete hall.

“Creepy,” One said, pulling a face.

They marched down the hall, and Three poked up on tiptoes to see in the dark window. She could see a faint Seven, lying in her bed.

“Open it,” Three instructed, and One lowered himself into a sturdy stance to pull the wheel. He struggled for a bit at first, until it squeaked little by little, turning around and loosening the door. “I knew you could do it,” Three said, clapping her hands. One beamed at her in response.

“Are you _sure_ she’s not sick?” he asked as he opened the door.

“She doesn’t look sick,” Three replied.

“But she takes that medicine.”

“If she were _really sick_ Dad wouldn’t go in there and neither would I!”

Still, One pulled a face. They peered in; Seven still laid silently in bed.

“If she wasn’t sick, why would he put her down here?”

Three shrugged. “Maybe it’s a test.”

“A test?”

She stepped carefully inside, wary of the spikes. “Maybe Dad wanted to see if we’d break her out.”

“Do you think he’s watching?”

The two stared at each other before Three shook her head resolutely. “If he is, I’ll rumour him,” she said, all fake confidence. They had gone too far to stop: Seven was going to get out of this cage.

She crept over to her sister, sleeping through their conversation, and shook her awake. Seven’s eyes blinked open and she stared, unworried, at Three.

“Come on,” Three whispered. “We’re getting you out.”

Seven sat up, tilted her head at One and the open door. “Where’s Dad?”

“Not here. We’re running away, and you’re coming with us,” Three said.

Seven seemed to consider this by looking at all the spikes in the room. “Won’t Dad be mad?”

“Maybe, but we won’t be here to see it,” One replied.

Then Seven nodded, firm. “Alright.”

Three checked her watch. “Come on, we’re running out of time,” she said. “We’ve got to get out before Pogo checks our rooms!”

Three led Seven out of the cage and down the metal steps; her bare feel curled at the cold concrete and Three slapped her forehead in annoyance: she’d forgotten to get her a pair of shoes! Never mind, they’d have to find some outside the house.

One closed the cage door and span the wheel until it locked again, and then the three raced down to the elevator, Three pressing the button as soon as they were all inside.

“Are the others coming too?” Seven asked, her voice quiet.

“Not this time,” Three replied. “They’d make too much noise.”

“We’re gonna figure out a plan to take them with us,” One added. “Then we’ll disappear and we’ll never have to be here again.”

“What about Pogo?” Seven asked.

Three was quite fond of Pogo, but she had to sigh. “I don’t think he’ll want to come. Maybe we could convince Grace, though – she’d look after us really good.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“We’ll get Five first,” Seven decided. “He said when he’s older he’ll be able to teleport all over the world, and that could be really handy.”

“But Four is really fun,” Three said. “He thinks up all our games.”

“And Six reads the best out of everyone,” Seven agreed.

“And Two’s the funniest,” Three replied, “ _and_ the warmest.”

“We’ll get them all,” One said. “We’ll just have to be careful about it.”

The elevator came to a stop, dinging faintly. Three nodded as the doors open. “Now, _be quiet_ ,” she whispered. “We don’t want anyone to hear us.”

“Yes,” a new voice said, “that would be terrible.”

The three of them gasped – on the other side of the door, their father glowered down at them, his hands perched on his cane.

“D-Dad,” One said.

“Number One,” Dad replied, “go to your room _immediately._ ”

“But, Dad—”

“No _buts._ You are out of your bed after curfew, which is against the rules, and you have taken a contagiously sick child out of her quarantine, endangering the whole house.”

“But if she was really sick,” Three started, before Dad raised a sudden hand.

“Three, you are in big trouble, and _Seven_ , you know better than to leave your quarantine—”

“But it’s boring in there!” Seven cried suddenly. “And there’s spikes on the wall!”

“For your own safety! One! Bed! Now!”

“But—but—”

“I will not say it again,” Dad told them, his voice loud and scary. Three didn’t get it. She and Seven were told off for making loud noises but Dad could make them all he wanted.

She curled her hand into a fist and glared up at him. “No!” she cried. “We’re not going back to bed! We’re taking Seven and we’re going!”

“Number Three—”

“We’re running away and you can’t stop us!” she cried. Past Dad, in the darkness of the hall, she could see Pogo watching them.

“Number Three, you will return to bed _at once_ , and I will issue your punishment in the morning,” her father said.

“No, you won’t!” she screamed. “Because I heard a rumour you’re going to let us leave and not stop us!”

The hall silenced. Dad’s eyes glazed over white, and after a beat, he stepped aside. Three blew a raspberry at him, grabbing Seven’s hand and tugging her out of the elevator.

“Come on, let’s _go_ ,” she huffed. One was a few uncertain steps behind.

“Three, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Don’t you _dare_ back out now,” she hissed at him. “We’re going and no one’s stopping us.”

“Miss Three,” Pogo started.

“I heard a rumour that you went back to bed and left us alone!” she cried, and Pogo stepped back in surprise, before slumping into his body and turning for the stairs.

Three led them towards the front doors, only looking back to check that One was following behind. She barged the doors open and stepped out into the night, out of the house where they rarely strayed.

For a moment, they all stood on the front steps, staring at the lights that glowed from the buildings, and then Three nodded, firm.

“Let’s go,” she said.

The other two followed her down the steps and past the front gate.

“How do you think he knew what we were doing?” One asked after Three decided a direction and started walking.

“Maybe he can see everything,” Seven suggested, looking very tired as she was tugged along.

“Maybe he can,” Three agreed. She chose to cross the road while it was dark, and latched onto One’s hand so they walked across in a chain, as their last nanny before Grace had taught them. “But _we’re_ the superheroes, so he can’t stop us.”

“Superheroes?” Seven asked. “I’m not a superhero.”

“Sure, you are,” One replied. “We’re _all_ superheroes.”

Seven pulled a face. “But I’m just ordinary.”

Three gasped – that’s what she had rumoured Seven into believing! She wanted to rerumour her immediately, but she could still see the house and they had to put lots of distance between them and Dad if they were going to successfully run away. They marched onwards until One made them stop so he could pull a pair of socks out of the backpack for Seven’s cold feet, and then they kept going, looking for some place to stop for the night.

There were lots of dark alley ways and lit up buildings – Three wasn’t sure if anyone would let them sleep on their floor or on the chairs in the restaurants, so they chose an empty alley with a big bin to hide behind, and laid out the ground with newspaper they took from the paper dispensers on the side of the street. You needed money to get into the boxes, but Luther just pulled open the door and took a stack so they could make a floor and blankets to sleep with.

Three did a lot of thinking as they settled down for the night, the three of them in a pile, Seven and Three on either side of One, who was arguably the warmest of the group. She thought deeply, and then dreamt deeply too, when they finally fell asleep.

The idea was fully formed by the time she woke up, though it was barely light. She rummaged through the papers while the other two slept, until she found a page dedicated to pictures of tiny babies all staring at the cameras. Each of them was listed with a name, and she looked at each one in turn until Seven blinked awake, nudging One up with her.

“We’ll need names,” she said. “Real people don’t have numbers for names, so we’ll need _name_ names.” She thrust the photos of the babies at them. “Choose one each. My name is gonna be _Allison._ ” She’d chosen the baby with the pink bow in their hair and the frilly white dress.

Seven said, “I like the name _Vanya._ It sounds funny.”

One pulled a face. “I don’t know how to choose.”

Seven— _Vanya_ —hummed, then pointed at a particular baby. “I like this name.”

“Loo-fer? Like that thing we have in the bath?”

“Luther,” Vanya said. “But yeah, that thing in the bath.”

The name made him giggle, so he took it, and then Allison’s siblings looked to her for their next instructions.

“We’ll find an empty house,” she told them, “and make it our _own_ home. And then we’ll go back during the night to Dad’s and steal our siblings one by one until we’re all gone!”

“Sounds pretty easy,” Luther agreed.

“What if we get into trouble? Dad says there are bad people in the world,” Vanya said.

“Then we’ll protect each other,” Allison replied, standing and brushing away the dirt of the night. “Luther is the strongest person in the world, and I can rumour anyone into doing anything!”

“And you can break stuff with noise,” Luther told Vanya, who pulled a face and insisted she couldn’t. Allison huffed and crouched down in front of her, deciding on the words.

“I heard a rumour that you remembered you have super powers.”

Vanya’s eyes flashed white and she sighed. “It was mean of you to make me forget,” she said.

Allison helped her up. “I know, but now you remember, we’ll be unstoppable!”

Luther jumped up, too, with a smile. “Then let’s go find a house,” he said, swinging the backpack onto his back. So, the three of them, in pyjamas and school uniforms without the logos, in socked feet, with only a backpack and a pack of cookies to their names, set off into the city to do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! pretty please talk to me in the comments!
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](tempestaurora.tumblr.com) come hang out
> 
> tomorrow: part two of the runaway academy


End file.
